But the Diamond Jubilee weekend is only just getting started. Here in my hometown of Maidenhead, the area’s annual free party (a fraction of its former size, now wholly on the main central park) has been moved back by a week, to coincide with the national celebrations. All weekend, the Maidenhead Carnival will offer entertainment, amusement, and fun, along with a brilliant opportunity for local charities to raise thousands of pounds. The stage, on which I performed last year, was being set up in a new location as I walked through Kidwell’s Park on Thursday morning, and other preparations including the construction of the dodgems were also under way.

Tomorrow (Sunday), I’ll be running the PA system at the Mallow Park Street Party, though I’m hoping to pop down briefly to my church’s celebration on Norfolk Road. It’s going to be a busy day, but one that will be extremely enjoyable. Outside my front door, we’ve 500m of bunting, multiple marquees, and plenty of food, not to mention an amazing raffle and a good number of games planned, all to help us celebrate 60 years of reign in style. Though ‘Heavy Rain’ is forecast, nothing (short of any real danger presented by the weather) can stop us having fun: if anything, the precipitation will only add to the British authenticity.

Meanwhile, my mate Jake will be on the banks of the Thames in London, witnessing the River Pageant, which will see a thousand craft – both grand, large boats like the Royal Barge, and Britain’s own “Tupperware Navy” of people messing around – take to the water. It is set to be a truly awesome event.

I have, however, still a large amount of work to do today – due to revision for other subjects, I haven’t touched my History books despite my exams in that subject being a week on Tuesday, and though it’s half term next week, I’m doing a canoeing / kayaking course during the main part of the week, so I won’t have as much time to revise a century of European history as one may at first imagine.

But to everyone, may you all have a very happy and safe (if soggy!) Diamond Jubilee weekend.

Andrew Burdett is a 21-year-old from Maidenhead in Berkshire. He is now two-thirds of the way through his Journalism Studies degree at the University of Sheffield. In his spare time, he enjoys swimming, going to the theatre, and writing about himself in the third-person.

3 Responses

‘Only the most churlish of republicans could suppress a little delight at the sight of junior school children in patriotic outfits and handmade crowns…’

Really? Churlish means rude and mean-spirited.

The potentially negative interpretation of impressionable minds being indoctrinated into celebrating a (hereditary) monarch(y) is not surliness. The British Republican sentiment is not puritanically serious or anti-fun. It may merely question why a jewelled crown is a ‘patriotic symbol’ – I’m also interested in your definition of ‘patriotic outfits’, what exactly do you mean?

When a person waves a British flag they show an identification with the ideas, beliefs, systems, and culture(s) from which the ‘nation’ attempts to define and ‘unite’ itself.

It is an insult to our history when the social liberties, political freedom, and educational, cultural, technological, and scientific achievements, are overlooked as mechanisms for unity or celebration.

Instead, when deciding on what to elevate to a level of national approbation, these advancements lose favour to the mere existence of a family – an assuredly amenable and affable collection of individuals – who have had a limited role in securing the ‘Greatness’ of Britain.

When choosing how to describe those whose opinions do not match your own, I would suggest avoiding naive and unnecessary jibes. It undermines your writing.

Really, seriously, thank you very much for your comment. I don’t think that this space is necessarily the best place to get into a serious debate with an anonymous commenter, but it would have been foolish of me to write what I did without considering how it would be interpreted by others with differing views.

I know that many people have a problem with the cost of the monarchy on taxpayers – indeed I often find myself doubting whether it really does represent value for money (there’s a publication by Republic that claims the Royal Family cost Britain “up to five times” the official £40m figure). Yes, I find it unfair that one family’s children happen to be born into such wealth and security, while some of the millions that pay for their circumstances live a much less luxurious life. And yes, I think it’s silly that the true monarchists say how comforting the Royal Family have been in times of war and disaster, whereas in fact Churchill is the ‘great leader’ remembered of WWII – not King George VI.

But for what they bring to the country – and, around this weekend (in an era where so much communication is digital), for uniting neighbours up and down the country – they’re brilliant. In the United States of America, a federal constitutional republic that has never had a royal family, there’s a famous amount of interest in our monarchy. It’s evident, to me at least, that we simply wouldn’t have such large celebrations over a Presidential election result, things that by definition separates people. So for the coming-together of people from all walks of life to celebrate (whatever the purpose), it’s a wonderful thing.